Silas City--Superhero AU
by semicolons
Summary: The mysterious Black Widow reluctantly takes on an apprentice, newly-superpowered Laura or Spider-Girl, trying to teach her the ropes while protecting Silas City from infamous crime boss L. Morgan...
1. One

Introduction

"Okay Laura…you can do this…you have superpowers now…you can do this…jumping off a building is easy…"

 _Maybe_ _I_ _can_ _'_ _t do this,_ Laura thinks, standing on the edge of her apartment complex, trying to get up the courage to jump. She must look like a crazy person, dressed in sweatpants with a ski mask pulled over her head. She had sewn a spider on the front of her baggy sweatshirt and the backs of her ski gloves as well. It was a precaution against possible fingerprinting.

So she gained spider powers after a school trip gone wrong. So she's proven to herself time and time again that a thread-thick web can shoot out of her wrist and hold all of her weight, and probably more. And that she has amazing reflexes, endurance, and the ability to not be a total klutz now. But jumping off a building is, quite literally, a leap of faith.

"I'm going to get off this roof," she says aloud, but as she turns, she notices someone in the alley behind her apartment. Someone cowering from an entirely dark figure standing over them, grabbing them by the throat, slamming them down on the hood of a car.

Someone in _trouble._ Any fears of heights go out the window as she gets a sprinting start and flings herself off the edge.

"FOR JUSTICE!" she shouts, regretfully not having a better catchphrase and landing on her feet between the assailant and their…her, actually…victim.

"What the _fuck?_ _"_ The woman exclaims, lowering the fist she had raised. She's dressed completely in black: skin tight spandex, black eyeliner, jet black hair…pretty much black _everything_. The only things not black are a deep burgundy—nearly blood red—and include only the face mask that surrounds her eyes.

Before Laura can utter a _holy Harley Quinn_ , the woman fixes her with a death stare.

She looks more like a super-villain than your typical mugger. Great choice for a first criminal.

"Why are you attacking this innocent…" Laura turns to check on her civilian in distress, but double takes when she realizes he isn't there. "Wait, where did he go?"

"He got away with money from an apartment he robbed, you absolute _moron_."

A clattering of metal from above. He's scrambling up the fire escape now. With a duffel bag.

"Wait, he _robbed_ a place?"

"Yeah. Some idiot left their window open," the woman points to a window. _Laura_ _'_ _s_ window.

"Holy Hogwarts, that's MY house!"

"That's _your_ apartment?"

"Yes! I climbed out onto the roof!" The woman in black looks frustrated to the point of exasperation. She presses two slender gloved (black, of course) fingers to her temple before looking at Laura with fire in her eyes.

"Then why are you in my way instead of CATCHING THE ROBBER."

"Oh–uh, right!" Laura nervously turns around, then puts her hands on the wall; then her feet, one at a time. They slip off. "Oh, jeeze…" she mutters. "One second." She puts a toe to the heel of one of her converse, slipping it off, then removes the other and places her thinly-socked feet against the brick. It still feels odd, but her sticky skin supports her through the mismatched fabric and she starts scampering up after the guy.

"Wait, what the frilly hell?"

"I just jumped off a roof without hurting myself, what did you expect?" she shouts over her shoulder giddily, as she chases after the robber, who is sufficiently freaked out, running up the stairs two at a time. Mystery woman uses a grappling hook and starts climbing as well.

"Hold on, evil doer!" Laura shouts, clambering awkwardly onto the roof. "Stop right there–"

He flips a switch blade knife out of his pocket. _Oh_ _gosh_ _._

"Okay you bitch, get out of my way before–"

"Is that any way to talk to a lady?" The woman's sultry voice comes from behind him as she languidly sways her hips, approaching him slowly.

He whips around skittishly, holding the knife in shaking hands. "I'm warning you!"

"Oh my God…" she holds a delicate hand to her forehead, feigning distress, "Is that a knife?"

"Yeah!"

"Dear God, you've found my one weakness! _Tiny knives!_ _"_

Laura can't help but laugh. Then she remembers. _Hey, I have webs!_

Aiming carefully, she flicks her wrist and lets one loose. It hits the edge of the knife and she yanks it right out of his hand.

"What the–"

And that's when mystery woman whips a baton out of her utility belt into her palm and conks him on the temple. He's out cold.

"Thanks, cupcake." She tosses the bag to Laura, who surprises herself in catching it with ease. "But next time, leave the crime fighting to the professionals." The woman starts walking across the roof.

"Wait!" Laura runs a few paces to catch up. "Aren't you going to tell me who you are?"

The mysterious woman scans her head to toe scrupulously, consideration written in the slight squint of her eyes. Finally, she answers.

"…Black Widow. And you?"

"Spider-Girl," Laura answers immediately, made up at that exact moment. It's obvious she wasn't exactly prepared, but whatever.

"Well, Spider-Girl, pro-tip. Don't meddle with my city–I work alone. Go back to your little apartment and have fun with your powers you got from a nuclear leak somewhere, this isn't for kids."

"You don't look any older than me!" Black Widow barks a laugh.

"The fact that you can't fathom a way that I could be older than I look is proof that you are not ready for the world of superpowers." She begins to move away again.

"Hey, stop!" Laura jogs a little and stands squarely in front of her. "Listen, you can't just show up and tag team my bad-guy without a follow up."

Black Widow sneers.

"That was _my_ catch. You don't even know what you're doing. You think this is all some game, but it's not. People get hurt in this business. You're not going to be any different just because you think you're The Little Spider That Could."

"…What I _think_ is," Laura says, annoyed, "I want to _try_. And I will notstop trying just because some gothic chick doesn't want me interfering with her turf, or…whatever! There's a lot of crime in this city, more than I would like to admit, and just because you might not be a team player doesn't mean it wouldn't be easer if you had some help." Black Widow scoffs.

"What help could you possibly give me?"

"I just took out that guy's knife!"  
"Please. Everything was going fine until you pulled that little gymnastics stunt."

"And by fine, you mean shoving him into the hood of _my_ car, which is now dented?"

Black Widow glances over the edge of the roof, and sure enough, there's a bent up blue sedan parked in the alley. She frowns, and Laura looks at her with satisfaction.

"You owe me."

"I'm not a babysitter."

"No, but you are a vandal. I've seen what the press says about you. Maybe if you had a plus one you wouldn't have to bang up buildings and smash windows all the time." It was true. Black Widow's PR game wasn't very strong. In fact, she could wallpaper a sizable bathroom with all the negative front pages she's made.

"… _fine._ "

"Awesome!" Laura chirps, nearly jumping in excitement. She begins to ramble. "And the way I see it, you can help me learn how to not be a total spazz about this whole superhero thing and we can be a team of famous superheroes!"

Black Widow exhales through her nose, but gives Laura a sideways glance of…approval?

"Pulling your own motive. That was ballsy. If it's fame and adoration you want, you're going to have to be a goody-two shoes. And…" she pauses, her tone dropping into a slightly lower, more threatening note, "I hope you realize that I know where you live, so finding your secret identity, and subsequently, everyone you know and love, is a breeze."

"…Oh." Suddenly Black Widow grabs Laura by the collar, lifting her onto her shoeless tip-toes and practically growling at her.

"So don't double-cross me."

"I…I won't."

She releases Laura, smirking at the bewildered and slightly panicked look in her eyes. Then she starts towards the precipice. "You're also lucky that our names fit thematically, or else I wouldn't be letting you tag along."

"Wait, where are you going now?" Laura asked, watching as her black boots teeter on the edge of the roof.

"First off, we'll need to get you a new suit. You look like a hobo. The dress code calls for spandex…" Black Widow turns her back to the nine-story drop down into the busy city streets of Silas. Her black hair whips in the wind a little. "We'll be in touch." With a wink she falls backwards, and when Laura scrambles to the edge and looks over, there's no sign of her.

"That was…" She's trying to collect herself in the rush of excitement and fear that fills her chest, but her voice still comes out as a squeal. "…awesome!"

1.

"Um…Are you sure it's supposed to be this-ugh- _tight_?" Laura winces, looking over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror on the wall. She's clad head-to-toe in deadly midnight spandex, shiny and a gift—left under mysterious circumstances on her desk in a platinum briefcase, by the way—from her new mentor, Black Widow.

Well, more a hand-me-down than a gift. And whether or not it's better than her poorly-sewn attempt at a costume is still debatable, seeing as she can't even move in this chic straight jacket.

Not even bothering to hide her amusement, Black Widow's voice comes velvety-smooth through Laura's laptop on a secure video chat she was somehow able to tap into without leaving any traces on the city's universal wireless network.

"Well, the manufacturer didn't advertise 'skin-loose' spandex…" Frowning, Laura stiffly walks over to the computer and with a loud _SQUEAK!_ of rubber she bends over the desk. The exertion and tight clothing force the air out of her lungs, she's now breathing audibly.

"You know, I wouldn't be opposed to, say, leggings with cats on them, or something." Black Widow quirks a flawless eyebrow from beneath a ridiculous amount of black makeup, causing her mask to shift upwards and rolling her eyes.

"Sorry, cutie, but 'Catwoman' is already taken. Let me see what I can do…" Before Laura can reply, the call ends, and she's left staring at a black screen.

"Black Wi-hello? I am really getting tired of all this mysterious bulls-oh!" She trips trying to walk in the costume and nearly smacks face-first into the ground, but catches herself reflexively with her left hand. "Woah…" Experimenting with her powers, Laura pushes off from the floor, now supporting her weight with her fingertips instead of her palm. With a smile, she removes her thumb, index finger, middle…until she's supporting herself with only a pinky.

Warily and with a stiff squeak, Laura swings her feet up, doing a handstand as straight as a board. _On her pinky._

"This is so cool!" she says excitedly, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Suddenly there's a knock on her door and she loses her balance, thudding her head on the hardwood. She rolls out to her feet and towards the door, pushing against it just as the handle turns and just in time to keep her father from coming in and seeing her new getup. Which totally pinched in that maneuver— _oww!_

"Laura? Is everything okay?" His voice is that of a gravelly bear, but undercut in its ruggedness by concern for his daughter.

"Yeah, yep, everything's fine, Dad!" Laura stutters, leaning against the door. The wood creaks in its frame at her strength. She immediately eases up.

"What was that?"

"What?"

"That noise, I thought I heard-"

"Oh, it's just my computer. I'm watching a movie."

"Oh…well, dinner's ready when you are," her father replies. She hears his heavy footsteps thud down the steps and heaves a sigh of relief.

"Holy crap, that was close…" After fifteen minutes of struggling to squirm out of the spandex, Laura figures it's old anyways and rips the thing apart at the chest, looking more like the Hulk than a subtle Spider-Girl…

Now in comfortable sweats and a tank top and filled with her father's famous Space Lasagna (so-called because "It's out of this world, Laura!" And they wonder where she gets her neediness from…), she returns to her laptop to find a little red flag on her inbox. Clicking on it, a message pops up: black background with white text.

Miss Spider-Girl: 

We would like to formally invite you to the following address to perform a professional assessment of your skills and abilities in order to properly tailor a uniform for you. Your new employer, B.W., requests that you also refrain from "wearing cat PJs" upon arrival.

This message will delete itself as soon as you finish reading it.

Ta-ta for now,

J.P.

THE RAYTHEON BUILDING

666 INDUSTRIAL WAY

SILAS CITY

AUSTRIA

And just like that, Laura's computer not only automatically exits her email, but shuts down completely, and refuses to turn on again for the duration of the night.

With a groan and the determination to get Black Widow to repair it at her "assessment", along with her car, for that matter, she slumps her head onto her desk.

"Of course it's 6-6-6…"


	2. Two

2.

"Stop squirming!"

"But it's cold!" Laura flinches away from the metal stethoscope LaFontaine tries to press against her chest. They finally manage to pin her down and stare at their watch, counting heartbeats.

"Hmm…"

"Hmm? What does 'hmm' mean? That doesn't sound good!" Laura dramatically falls against the backrest of her swivel chair. The pair is in a small side office in Silas University's research lab, having snuck away from a biology prerequisite course. The same lab that they had managed to sneak into after-hours to do some last minute work on a project and got a little distracted, ultimately resulting in Laura's remarkable spider abilities. "Oh god, I'm dying."

"We're all dying, Laura," LaF replies, removing the rubber buds from their ears and hangs the chord of the instrument around their neck. "But I've been working on a serum that I think is going to be really revolutionary…" Laura fixes them with a death stare and they nod curtly, realizing now may not be the time to unveil plans for "The Fountain of LaF." Or maybe "The LaFontaine of Life." They'll run vaccine names by her later. "Right. Your pulse is really slow, like, 30 beats per minute slow, but you're still alive, so that's a good sign."

"Thirty beats per minute?! That's-"

"One beat every other second, I know. Most arachnids register anywhere between nine and one hundred twenty-five, so it's kind of normal. Any other symptoms?" LaF begins inspecting the two tiny red spots on Laura's neck where she was bitten.

"Besides the wall-climbing, super strength and agility, the web production and the fact that I can get hit by a car and leave a dent in it? No, everything's just peachy." LaF glances at the beat up blue bicycle in the corner, its frame cracked in two places and the spokes popping out like little pikes.

"Your bike wasn't so lucky," they mutter, poking at one of the circles on Laura's skin with a little metal rod.

"Oh, ow, ow ow ow OW!" Laura's hand shoots up and grab's LaFontaine's wrist in a vice grip, forcing them to drop the stick. She only releases when she hears a crack. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

LaFontaine rubs their wrist gingerly, massaging the already bruising skin. They grimace but manage a smile, which quickly fades away as soon as their eyes fall on Laura's neck.

"That's not good."

"What? What's not good?" Laura asks, feeling at her neck, though it's as smooth as ever. The red dot that LaFontaine poked deepens to a dark maroon, then to deep purple and lightens again to blue. "What's happening?"

"Interesting," LaFontaine says, studying the mark. They're tempted to poke the other one, but can't think of a way that Laura could explain two blue dots to her dad. And they were not about to mess with Mr. Hollis. "The dot I poked turned blue. Does it hurt anymore?"

"WHAT?!" Laura springs to her feet, rushing with unnatural speed to the mirror on the wall. She groans when she sees the little red dot next to a bright blue one. "Damn it, how am I supposed to hide this from my dad?"

"It hardly seems noticeable, unless you're looking," LaF says, only partially lying. The dots really were tiny. "Do you feel any different?"

"No, I guess not…What does this mean?"

"I have no clue. Arachnology isn't my field. But I'll look into it. I'll send you some more inf-"

Just then, the door opens and Laura quickly pulls her hair forward to hide the bite. Their TA, Danny, looks from Laura to LaF suspiciously.

"What's going on in here?"

"Oh! Hey, Danny. Yeah, LaF was just showing me some really cool data charts about the MC1R gene, in fact I think you'd really like it-"

"You guys are supposed to be doing your dissections."

"We finished early!" Laura chirps. LaF gives a sheepish smile.

"I used to dissect amphibians for fun as a kid."

"Of course you did." Danny can't stifle a laugh as she holds the door for them. "Come on, let's get back to class."

"Perr, are you gonna come to the show tonight?" LaFontaine asks, as they, Laura and Danny gather their books and begin to leave after the professor closes out the lecture. Perry is still at the dissection tables, having insisted upon sanitizing everyone's station and even offering to do one particularly bloody girl's laundry. Mary just shook her head and stiffly made her way to the door, visibly trembling.

"No, no, I have to finish up here. You all go on without me, have fun!" Perry turns back to her work with a near-manic smile, humming the Brady bunch theme song as she scrubs.

"No problem, more room for LaF!" they say cheerily, stepping between Danny and Laura and throwing their arms around them as they head down the hall. Laura gently removes herself from under their arm.

"Actually, I've gotta take a rain check too, guys. See you next time?" Danny grabs her arm before she can leave.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Laura says, taking a step back and away from her friend's grasp. "I'm just…busy. This afternoon. I have—I'm busy." With an awkward smile she spins and practically skips away. Right off the top of a flight of stairs.

Without thinking, Laura throws the rest of her body weight forward, tucking her head and planting her hands on a middle step. She completes the flip by kicking her legs forward and effortlessly sticking the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

Red as a tomato, she glances back to see Danny gaping at her and LaF trying and failing to suppress a wide-eyed grin. She sidesteps a couple of other students who are whooping perfect scores at her and rounds the corner, heading to the street as quickly as she can.

—

Unable to find a taxi and with her bike incapacitated until LaFontaine can repair it, Laura has been stalking around the city for almost an hour, without any idea of where Industrial Way is or any GPS on her stone-age flip phone.

 _There has to be a better way to do this_ , she thinks, stepping off the main sidewalk to a dirty alleyway. She looks up at a rusted stairwell crawling up the side of an apartment building. _That_ _'_ _ll do._

Slipping her shoes off and tucking them into her backpack, she tentatively looks around and places her fingertips on the brick. No witnesses, no need to worry about fingerprints.

As soon as she's on the roof, she realizes it was stupid to look for something when she doesn't even really know what she's looking for.

She's about to dial 4-1-1 for directions when her phone vibrates in her hand.

Lost? -B.W.

…taking the scenic route.

Old airport control tower to your left. -B.W.

Laura turns around, trying to find Black Widow or a camera or _something_ , but she is alone. She scans the cityscape and finds a red square perched atop a beige tower, antennae and rusted radio beacons sticking out from it like overly gelled hair.

It's about twenty blocks away, so she starts running towards the edge of the building. With a great leap, she pushes off the gutter and flings herself to the next roof, tucking and rolling on the landing. A little flustered with excitement more than exertion, she is quickly on her feet and running towards the next building.

With only five blocks to go, Laura stops and bends over, resting her hands on her scraped up knees and panting. Even with extreme endurance, travel by rooftop leaping is rather exhausting. Her pants are completely ruined and the face of her backpack is fraying from all the somersaults.

"Okay, almost there. Just a few more…" With a huff she's running again, but she misjudges the last step and is tumbling through the air. Instincts take over and she doesn't even have time to panic before her arms are extended, shooting webs from her wrists which quickly attached themselves to nearby buildings. With a long swooping swing, she sails low past traffic on the street. Laura even has to lift her knees to her chest to avoid the top of a semi-truck. At the end of that web's arc, she releases it and catapults through the sky, sending web after web until she attaches one to the tower, swinging around it in a circle like a tetherball before landing lightly on her feet.

With an exhilarated smile she looks at her wrists, flexing her fingers with glee.

"I could definitely get used to that!"

Her smile falters when she looks at her surroundings. She's in a graveyard of cars, all rusted and stacked upon each other by the huge magnetic crane near the tower. Even the dump that moved in after the airport went out of commission is deserted now. With a small shiver she makes her way around dented bumpers and spare tires. A giant cracked "R-YTH-ON" sign dangles off one of the huge hangars. Laura has a weird feeling, like she's being watched, which is probably true, so she approaches slowly.

"Hello?" she calls, coughing from the dust that fell when she slid open one of the huge metal doors.

No answer.

Of course not.

She continues in the dark of the hanger, stepping around pieces of fuselage and rogue control yokes without even looking down. She jumps and gives a little yelp at the scurrying flight of a bat skirting her ear. Suddenly her phone buzzes again.

Don't be a child. There's an elevator to your left. -B.W.

Do you really think it's necessary to sign your texts? I know it's you.

To this she receives no reply, and doesn't wait for one either. Laura turns to the left and walks with purpose, ducking under the wing of a small jet and straight to a blank wall. Squinting at it for a moment, she puts her palm against the concrete. In a second she knows where the button is, she feels the electric current under a HIGH VOLTAGE sign, just to the right. Lifting the sign and pressing the button with her index finger, she notices a slight rumbling. The wall doesn't slide apart, and there's no secret passageway behind a giant brick fireplace, but there's a definite shift in the ground under her feet. Specifically, a perfectly round circle of cement sinks an inch, revealing a bright light underneath. Bracing her knees for balance, Laura stands in the middle of the circle as it lowers her into the ground, revealing a huge room underneath. She descends past a row of bright white fluorescent lighting and all black walls. On the ground—which, by courtesy of extremely high ceilings, is easily forty feet below her—stand a cluster of red matts and partitions, rows of gymnastics equipment, several obstacle courses and there's even a small pool of water with a series of rope nets above it.

"Welcome to the lair." Black Widow saunters over, head to toe once again in black, but rather than spandex she's wearing what looks like soft nylon. It's still skin tight though.

"This place looks like a Ninja Warrior set," Laura remarks, dragging her eyes around the room as her pedestal clicks into place on the floor. "And aren't lairs a villain thing?"

"How do you know I'm not a villain?"

"Uh, hello? I saw you stop a robber." Laura begins inspecting the equipment around the room. "Besides, you're in the newspaper all the time."

"If anything that should convince you," Black Widow barks a laugh.

"Well, that's why I'm here! To boost your image!" Laura's overly perky smile earns only a conceding grunt and a mumbled _what did I get myself into?_

"Locker room's through there. Get changed and we'll get started." Black Widow motions to a doorway on the far wall and begins stretching. Inside, Laura finds a dozen black metal lockers against the walls, a separate area with several black-tiled showers, and a few sinks in front of mirrors.

Humming _Y.M.C.A., s_ he sets her backpack down on a red bench amongst the lockers and unzips it.

A small rectangle of white catches her eye and she looks up. On one of the lockers a piece of paper is taped to the metal. "SPIDER-TWERP". She frowns, but steps over the low bench and lifts the catch.

The door is locked. She tries it again, but it only beeps at her. Looking closely, she can see a small pulsing green circle on the side of the handle. She places her thumb on it and after a second there's a small click. She lifts the handle again and it swings open with ease.

"…creepy." Maybe later she'll ask Black Widow where she got her fingerprints, but Laura isn't sure she wants to know. Hanging from a hook inside is a simple black hoodie that's deceivingly lightweight, a pair of slick black running shoes and socks, and a pair of very short shorts. "Even creepier."

"What's the matter? Black not your color?" Black Widow laughs as Laura steps onto the red mat next to her. She keeps pulling at her shorts, as if willing them to be longer will make them so. It's no use, however, and the fabric falls—in some ironic show of mercy mixed with the universe's _fuck you_ —just two inches below the hem of her underwear.

"No, I'm just-" she grabs her ankle and raises it behind herself, balancing on one black sneaker. "I don't usually wear lingerie to work out."

"Oh please, they're hardly PG-13," Black Widow replies. Laura bends over to touch her toes and the shorts offer a flattering view.

Black Widow scoffs at even the idea and looks away.

"You're going to thank me for the flexibility later," she continues. After some general warm-ups in which Laura basically copies whatever Black Widow does—she's never been particularly athletic—she leads her to the beginning of the course. It starts with a series of differently spaced blocks to jump across while ducking under several huge foam bars that come across the course, then leads into a forest of hanging ropes dangling over a pool, followed by a platform that is covered in… _something._ A green, slimy-looking something.

At the end of the course Laura sees a towering rock-wall. She flexes her fingers, grinning. At least the end will be a breeze.

"You're up first," Black Widow says, hitting a red button on the nearest wall. With the quiet whirring of a motor somewhere certain parts of the course begin to move: the blocks, the foam bars, even the ropes start swinging around. Laura is un-phased.

"No problem." She steps back for a running start, then launches herself onto one of the moving platforms.

In a few well-timed jumps and rolls to dodge the moving bars, Laura is across the blocks and throws herself into the ropes. About halfway through she decides they're too cumbersome for her taste, and so just starts shooting webs from her wrists and zips across the pool that way. She's on the red square just before the green muck, and is about to just shoot and pull herself up by a web to the rock-wall when a deep voice with a British accent comes over the intercom.

"Miss Spider-Girl, the purpose of this obstacle is to test your pain tolerance, not your ingenuity. Please step into the slime." Laura turns, looking at Black Widow from where she stands to the side of the course, holding a timer in her hand.

"Clock's ticking," she says, expression blank. Laura looks at the slime, then back at her.

"…you first." Black Widow smiles.

"Very good. Your mother must've taught you not to take candy from strangers. You can skip to the wall now."

Laura sends a web right to the top of the wall, pulling herself up by it in an instant. She stands at the top and smirks down at Black Widow, not even out of breath.

"I'm done playing on the playground, now can we start training?"

"Let's do a scenario. For whatever reason you've just lost all of your powers. Find a way to get off the tower before the bomb on it detonates." As soon as Black Widow speaks, a large timer flashes red on a wall screen, reading 00:30 and counting down. The little multi-colored handles on the side of the wall retract, making it smoother than glass. Laura looks around, trying to find some way down. On one side, the green goo waits. Two sides are considered out of bounds. She turns to the fourth, and is pleasantly surprised to find a staircase.

"Yeah, really diffi- _oh!_ " Laura's foot falls through the first step like it's air, and she realizes the whole thing is a digital illusion. A hologram. Reflexes consume her and she clumsily shoots another web; it softens her land, she ends up in a tumble on the floor, tweaking her ankle on the way down.

"Twelve thirty-seven. And you broke the rules. That's terrible," Black Widow says. Still, she offers her a hand, pulling the girl to her feet.

"Twelve minutes isn't that bad," Laura argues, trying to keep weight off her left foot, but also trying to conceal her discomfort. Black Widow looks at her judgmentally. "It was my first time! At least I didn't step in the slime of death."

"You're not as gullible as I thought, but you did show up here with no idea what you were getting yourself into."

"Again, negative press or not, your antics around Silas have been ultimately beneficial. So I wasn't totally blind-"

"Mistress, the tailor has just arrived," the intercom interrupts.

"Thanks, J.P." Black Widow walks without a word to yet another door in the gym. Laura follows, gritting her teeth with each limping step.

"Lola," she says, entering a room that looks more like a children's craft store than part of a mysterious superheroine's hideout. The walls are a faint pastel green, and covered with white shelving filled with little tupperware boxes labeled "Zippers," "Elastic," "Spandex," "Safety Scissors," "Needles," and on and on and on. In the center of the room is a crafting table covered with pink fabric, and behind it on a stool sits…

" _Perry?!_ " Laura can't believe her eyes. She blinks, then again, and once more. "Oh my god, what are you doing here?"

"Ma'am, I'm afraid I haven't met your new business partner," Perry says tensely to Black Widow, her eyes wide and nearly twitching. Since seeing Laura she's sitting spectacularly straight (even for Perry), and her knuckles have turned white from clenching her hands together so tightly. Her foot taps a rapid _pat pat pat pat pat_ on the metal of the stool.

"…right," Black Widow says, looking from Laura to Perry knowingly. "Lola, this is Spider-Girl. She will be assisting me with my work from now on." Perry gives a tight-lipped smile.

"Pleasure to meet you."

"But, Perry, it's just me you don't have to-"

"I glanced at the analytics J.P. sent from your assessment," Perry says, blazing through the weird and unusual. "I'm thinking a material called ROOTS developed by Fowl Industries. It's a silver-threaded spandex polypropylene blend, obviously containing bamboo pulp; we wouldn't want you getting a sunburn, and it's very lightweight, keeps out moisture and the silver is fantastic for preventing odors while you fight crime, after all we wouldn't want you getting sweaty when you sweep the damsel in distress off her feet and-"

"Lola," Black Widow says sternly, putting an end to her excited rambling. "When will it be ready?"

"Well, we're doing skin tight and head to toe, of course, for increased mobility and aerodynamics when she's zipping around. The gloves will take extra time. Lau…ahem, Spider-Girl. Do you have a color scheme in mind?"

Laura doesn't understand any of what Perry has said and just stares at her with her mouth open.

"You're Perry! I know you!" she finally stutters, moving her hands about in a fluster. Perry rolls her eyes and sucks her lips in, shaking her head.

"I hear from…sources…that you have a bite mark on your neck. May I see it?" Black Widow looks just as confused as Laura, only she somehow manages to appear apathetic at the same time. Laura just puts a palm to her forehead and moves her hair to the side.

"Fine," she sighs. Perry looks at the little blue and red dots on Laura's skin.

"Oh, goodness. Have you put an anti-bacterial salve on that?" Perry doesn't wait for an answer before she flurries away to a row of fabric spools, picking out a navy blue and blood red, then holding the red up to them. "Does this look too dark to you?"

"No."

"Yes."

Black Widow and Laura answer at the same time, Perry just nods, looking at several different shades. After a moment of them just standing there watching her, she turns and shoos them away.

"Well? I've got work to do. Go, go go go you can't see until it's done!" They allow her to rush them out to the main room of the gym again and she closes the door behind them.

"I don't want to know." Black Widow says. Laura just pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. "We're done for the day."

"Done? You didn't teach me anything!"

"In case you haven't noticed, I can't shoot silk out of my fingertips. What am I supposed to teach you?" Black Widow snaps. "I gave you a place to practice."

Laura just looks at her until she rolls her eyes in surrender.

"Be here same time tomorrow and we'll go over some hand-to-hand stuff, okay?"


End file.
